Coastal Washington Stillwater Opportunities

When anglers talk about Coastal Washington, rivers typically dominate the conversation, and for good reason. In winter, steelhead return to streams from Willapa Bay’s Bear River to the multisyllabic Soo’es and Wa’atch rivers of the Mahkah Passage. Summer Steelhead spawn in the uppermost reaches of the Chehalis, and Coastal Cutthroat utilize even the smallest cedar stained creeks to bring forth the next generation. Lost in this diverse collection of fisheries lay a plethora of stillwater opportunities.

Most of our local lakes will be opening this saturday, and it's a kind of sin to miss the annual lake opener. amongst the vast collection of water-filled depressions in the landscape of our coast a flavor of stillwater exists for every kind  fisherman. 

The lakes that have a dependable return of sockeye salmon hold a special place in my heart. The sockeye fry are preyed upon heavily by adfluvial trout and char whenever they are present in a system. This offers a great chance to troll fry patterns, my favorite method of taking adfluvial coastal cutts. Hit the sockeye lakes mid may through june, troll drop offs and deep water structure. Lake Quinault is the best lake for this, but it is closed to non tribal fishing this year. Lake Ozette remains a solid choice, but any lake with a run of sockeye or a population of kokanee will produce for trolling fly fisherman. 

The high lakes of the Olympic Mountains offer wild, if not native, trout and truly breathtaking views. The trout rarely reach 14 inches and all of these lakes take some leg work to reach, but this is offset by gorgeous alpine terrain, diverse wildlife, and a feeling of solitude that you have to experience to appreciate. I usually use a clear intermediate line, but a floating line will work fine. Fish nondescript wet flies and nymphs, and always carry a couple small olive buggers and a few midge pupa just in case. Don’t forget to look up, when you do I am willing to bet that a feeling of awe will follow shortly. 

The WDFW stocks several lakes with “Triploids.” These infertile rainbows feed voraciously and can grow quite large. Failor, Aberdeen, and Sylvia are the triploid lakes I am most familiar with, but several others receive plants. The earlier in the year you fish these lakes the better chance you have of landing a monster artificial trout. A word of caution, a lot of anglers know about these fish, so don’t expect to be alone. 

Though definitely not our forte, you can find some warmwater fishing in coastal Washington. Lakes like the Olympia area’s Black Lake, Elma’s Vance Creek Ponds, and the collection of small lakes on the Long Beach Peninsula all contain Largemouth Bass. Cast deer hair poppers and large wooly buggers into thick cover to tempt these fish. 

I’ll be hiking up a creek bed to try and locate a mountain lake in the Quinault Basin that I have fished a few times in the past. With Lake Quinault not opening fishing it would seem too anti climactic to me. Wherever you are this saturday, I’ll be wishing you tight lines and blue skies.  

Writing From Eugene

Drove to Eugene, Ore last night to watch my fiance throw Javelin in the Oregon Invitational relays. Sounds like a blast but in reality it meant almost 16 hours of straight alone time with my future mother in law and some of the worst sleeping arrangements I've ever experienced. It's ok though, I always love long drives like this because I get to see how the rivers shape a landscape, and the future mom-in-law has actually been extremely pleasant. I don't think I've ever made a dedicated drive through the Lower WIllamatte valley and I'm pretty excited to see it in daylight on the way home. Another thing I noticed early in the trip; I need to spend more time on the Chehalis next Winter. I wonder if any of those crotchety old farmers who don't let anyone fish on their land would like some free labor come harvest time.

I'll be on a river tomorrow taking pictures for an article that I am writing for money (boy, that has a nice ring to it). The Summer preview should be out in the next couple of weeks, and I plan on interviewing Fawn Sharp soon to find out the details of this Lake Quinault closure, namely
 why? how long? and can we still fish if we have a native with us?

A Few Thoughts on the Lake Closing

It looks like earlier reports that Lake Quinault will be off limits to non-tribal member this year were true. I think this is a pretty big deal, especially if you live in my neck of the woods. The lake is the main selling point for most of our tourism and this could really hurt some local businesses. On the other hand, the lessened pressure can only be good for our fish. 

A Beautiful Sunset on Lake Quinault

This isn’t the first time the tribe has pulled the plug on the non-native recreational fishery in the lake. When I was younger there was a year they did the exact same thing, I believe back then they cited non-natives illegally harvesting sockeye salmon from the lake as justification for the closure. At the time the community was very upset, but the closure was only for one year. I remember fishing the opener the year after with my dad. It was one of the worst Aprils I remember weather wise and opening day was blessed with a ferocious east wind. The rain came down in sheets and out little john boat was the only one we could see on the lake, though visibility was less than 100 feet so I can’t be sure. I still remember that day as the best morning of trout fishing I have ever had. We landed trout ever 2-5 minutes. We stopped counting at 30. Among the many fish we brought to hand was a handsomely golden 24 inch cutthroat that remains to this day my personal best of his species. 

The reasons for this closure seem to be slightly different and to be completely honest they seem puzzling at best. The main reason for closure according to the major news networks of Western Washington is concern about the water quality. The tribes President, Fawn Sharp, allegedly blamed pollution cause by non-tribal members leaky sewers. This doesn’t make much sense to me, I fully support water quality monitoring and aggressive stewardship where the lake is concerned, I just fail to see how closing the fishing season on the lake improves that situation. There are seasonal houses on the lake, but I doubt the fishing has an impact on how many seasonal residents we have. Fawn is an extremely reasonable woman and is an intelligent and committed president, so I have to assume something else is going on here. I plan on getting the story from the horses mouth soon, so I will leave you to speculate until then.

What we can discuss right now is how this will impact the fish, citizens, and economy of Lake Quinault. The most obvious side affect of this closure is the lessened pressure on the fish. I don’t think Lake Quinault was anywhere close to what you’d call heavily pressured, but if this year off has the same affect as the last break, I am all for it.

In fact, if we see a giant bounce back like last time after only one year of closure, that could really set a precedent in fisheries management. Imagine a world where instead of all steelhead rivers slowly dwindling to short focused seasons, not only eliminating recreational opportunity but also focusing all the pressure on the steelhead that return during those windows and further decimating the genetic diversity of our streams, We put rivers into 4 year cycles. For instance, during one year the Upper Quinault might be open all year while the Queets and Humptulips systems are closed during Winter. The following year the Quinault is closed along with the Queets Mainstem and Humptulips while the Clearwater and Salmon rivers are open. The third year the Queets can be open, then the Humptulips the fourth year. I am, however, getting ahead of myself. 

The flip side to this of course, is that most of you can’t fish the lake anymore. The regulations are stone set yet, but if the tribe manages the lake like they do other restricted reservation water a smart Native with a guide license will start offering Lake trips on his website.

That guy could do pretty well for himself this summer

Man of Steel

While going though an old social media account today I found this picture. This is my dad, and he is obviously feeling pretty good about himself. This kind of thing reminds me how lucky I am to draw from a life filled with countless adventures, hard learned lessons, and ALOT of pretty fish. I don't think I've ever had a dull day of fishing whilst in this man's company.

The most recent excursion came during the final week of steelhead season on the Queets. We had set out that morning to fish one of our favorite runs on the Queets, a run we both discovered independently, we found the road washed out and coned off, so we did the obvious thing and took our barley running 2 wheel drive Ranger on an offroad adventure. We managed to make it where we needed to go and we had ourselves a day of fishing. I covered the 500 yard stretch of water with a couple different flies and my dad side drifted an okie. We fished, waded dangerously, saw all sorts of wildlife, did alot of sitting around on driftwood shooting the breeze, didn't catch a thing, and generally had a damn good time doing so.

Some Bittersweet News

I've just learned that the Quinault Indian Nation has decided to close Lake Quinault to fishing for non tribal members this season. This is really sad on the one hand because this is an amazing fishery that none of you can enjoy now, but on the other hand it is ok to fish when accompanied by a tribal member. So I will be spending some time with some old friends this spring and summer. Fishing Reservation water is no new thing to me so my fishing season will only be enriched by the lessend pressure. I can't say I'm not excited.

As Rivers Close.....

This Morning when I got off work at 7 a.m. the sun had just illuminated the last part of Lake Quinault. The view on the drive home was absolutely spectacular, the lake a golden reflection of the world above. It was the first truly beautiful morning I have seen since last fall, and it was incredibly appropriate. Most sane human beings consider us to be well into spring, but any Steelheader from this area will tell you winter ended at sundown yesterday evening. 

Steelhead season is officially over in my neck of the woods. The big Glacier rivers closed yesterday and it’s an hour drive north or south to find an open river, and to be honest, I would rather stay put. It’s time to put away the spey rods and shank flies and pull out the trout stuff. Time to trade in those 5mil waders for some light weight shorts, and time for me to get some tying done.

The Lake will open soon, and I couldn’t help but trace the trolling lines in my head as I drove up the south shore this morning. The new flatwing inspired streamers I have tied up are shaking in my box, although as I hinted earlier I need to stop experimenting at the vise and start stocking my trout stuff. 

I am sad to see steelheading go, and was almost depressed until I drove over the Lower Quinault bridge and noticed the lake outlet was completely covered in rise forms.

Bring on spring. 

It's Been a Long Winter

The last time I posted, I had a small, 24 hour per week part time job. Within days of my last post I was promoted. Full time. This sounded great, but my fishing has definitely suffered. I’ve finally begun to make heads and tails of my packed schedule, and I have enjoyed some fine days on the water in recent weeks. Several events have changed the course of my angling career, and I would like to share them with you, and add (another) promise that this blog will be resurrected from the grave!

I’ll begin with the good news. I’m engaged. to a lovely woman named Shayna Wilson. She’s a photographer, who loves the outdoors. Yes. I am a lucky man. We don’t have a wedding date set, and in addition to being an ace photographer, Shayna is also one of the countries top Javelin throwers, so we will be moving to Portland, Oregon in the fall so that Shayna can win a couple National Championships and make a run at the Olympics (hey, dreaming big never hurt anyone). This is awesome because Portland is one of the best Fly-fishing cities around, and I’ll get to acquaint myself with warmwater fish. This sucks because I have absolutely no local knowledge or fishing buddies down that way (definitely accepting applications for the previously mentioned open position). 

I landed a couple beautiful Wild Steelhead from the Queets and Quinault this Winter, and also thumped a delicious hatchery fish. I didn’t spend near enough time on the water though. Probably the biggest event this Winter was the incredibly tragic passing of Doug Rose. Doug was the model of a Fly-Fisherman. Champion for Olympic Peninsula conservation, incredibly talented author, and mentor to hundreds, Doug will be sorely missed. 

I did not have an extensive relationship[p with Doug, but we considered each other friends, and there is probably no one who has influenced me more as a writer and conservationist. I remember when I first began fly-fishing. I found Doug’s book The Color of Winter, in the Amanda Park Mercantile, and after falling intensely in love with it I emailed him. This is a pretty common practice of mine when I read a book that I love, but very few authors are sympathetic to their readers. Doug not only responded, but he responded quickly, and it was a very personal response full of encouragement, congratulations, and lots of tips and suggestions. To this day, I can’t say I know a kinder man than Doug. One of the last things he said to me during his battle with cancer was that he was not afraid to die.

I was not surprised.

In other news I have began writing my first book, which I plan to self publish, and should have it written by the new year. I plan on selling it through a distributing package with Amazon, but as writing isn’t my primary source of income, if you want a copy but don’t want to pay for it, just ask. 

I’ll have a post-steelhead season preview article up within in the week , and an step by step article on tying my fry patterns soon after. Until then I wish you clear rivers and tight lines. 

Autumn

Its been a while, which is a little disheartening to me after my promise of frequent posting last time. Remember those summer posts when I was wishing fall would sweep in and make me busy again? Well, they’re here. I’ve been trying to get my bow shot into shape in time for the upcoming season. I’ve been fishing the glacial rivers, the rainfed streams are too low, and have done very well on cutthroat. 

I’d like to say steelhead are my top priority, but as I’ve mentioned here before, I lost my spey rod and my 7wt in a recent move. All I have left is my 5wt, so I think I’m going to focus the majority of this year on cutthroat. I’ve given that fish to few concentrated casts, and I plan to refine my technique with them. 

Deer season opens the 1st, and Elk shortly after, so September will likely find me with a bow in my hand more days than not. With Grouse and Salmon also taking time out of fly fishing, I have a feeling I’ll fish much less than I mean to. 

The Heron and Me

A few weeks back I had a rare day to myself. I had also just borrowed my uncles smallish two wheel drive pickup, so I had a vehicle that didn’t kill you with it’s mileage. I decided to take a drive down an old road that ends deep in the park on the Queets River. Like most old forgotten roads that enter the park, I found that it was washed out by a creek. Never one to be discouraged, I strung up my rod and hoofed the half mile or so the river.

What greeted my determined hike was not encouraging. Run-off has been absolutely horrible this year, and the Queets was the color of bad pea soup. I knew it had been very dirty down below, but I though this high up away from the influence of tributaries that have been degraded by logging and development, it would be better. In any event, I doubt the spot I stumbled into would have improved much with clear water, it was much to fast and broken here, with very little holding water and pea sized gravel replacing the boulders I am accustomed to on the Quinault. I also found myself in the age old predicament of being on the wrong side of the river.

I decided to head upstream to look for green pastures, this meant scaling a pretty monolithic log jam. When I got to the top I peered upstream to see a beautiful stretch of water. The river took a lazy turn against a cut bank littered with woody debris. It had a smooth glassy tail out and a nice boulder field at its head. I started toward the run with much more enthusiasm. I began to plan my next few hours. The run was probably four hundred yards in all. If I still had my spey rod I would have wasted the day covering every inch with as big a fly as I could cast. As it stood I had my little five weight and a floating line. My biggest fly was a size four Brown Heron, which was now tied to my leader.

I would have to settle for probing the tailout. The boulder field and midsection seemed dangerous wades in the inflated river, and I wouldn’t be able to reach the better lies of those sections with my little rod unless I waded to my armpits. I was almost running now, hopping recklessly through the last stretch of the log jam. Suddenly something exploded a few feet in front of me. Mottled grey wings thumped inches from my face and very large and aggravated Heron protested angrily as he flew upstream. He landed just before my run and ducked under a log and out of sight.

Moments later I reached the spot where he landed and was surprised to find that I could walk under the log with ducking. “That wasn’t a Heron it was a Pterodactyl,” I thought. I rounded the log to find the bird several yards upstream and staring, almost glaring, directly at me. He was absolutely magnificent, almost six feet of dirty grey elegance. I gazed sheepishly down at the Brown Heron secured in my hook keeper. I lifted my head with a smirk of irony on my face.

“It’s schlappen, I swear.”

Busy

I know I haven't been posting as frequently as I should. Lifeis kind of crazy right now, family stuff has come up, and my day job is in full gear becasue of the summer tourist season. I have been getting out some, and I had a great day on the Lower Quinault this week. The cutthroat have been around in force, and it seems like everyone in my fishing circle has landed a summer steelhead except me.

I should pick up the posting soon, unil then, good luck on the water.

Balls

Notice how the blue line is 1000 fps higher than the little yellow triangle? My fishless summer steelhead season sure has. We had one good stetch of melt-the-mountains sun, and ever since it's been just warm enough to keep the river looking green and soupy, but not quite enough to put a dent in the snow pack.

Luckily I have a few other things to do. Most notably I need to get my arrows closer together on the block before elk season opens.

July is a joker of a month. No hunting opputunities, and fish are few and far between. My empty lines and extra time make me think I'll have enough spare to do everything I want this fall. Talk to me at the end of October when my shoes have holes in the sole and I STILL haven't hit that little creek that has to be full of silvers, or scouted any ponds or sloughs in preperation for duck season, or bought groceries in two months.

The Outdoor Industry and Growth

Read a VERY insightful article over at Chi Wulff today, seems that the Outdoor Recreation Industry is getting pretty large and profitable these days.

As far as I'm concerned, the growth over environmental preservation argument is pretty much dead.

Action Needed

“The plain truth is that boats on these relatively small rivers leave a fish no place to hide, no sanctuary. Every square yard of good water is covered, if not by one boat then by the next, and the fish are harried and chased from one end of the river to the other.” -- Syd Glasso

The wild steelhead coalition has released some VERY intriguing rule proposals concerning our steelhead rivers. Particularly the rule proposing to ban drift boats on certain parts of the Qullayute and Hoh systems. You can view them HERE

Although I am a tad concerned with the displaced drift boatmen ending up on the Queets and Quinault and making life more crowded for me, I think this is a VERY important first step. Especially for rivers designated Wild and Scenic, I'm not sure how WIld and Scenic a river can be when a parade of drift boats is in constant procession.

Our part in this is to communicate our support. We need to get to emailing department officials and Senators and whoever has an email and some power in this. 

I never knew Syd Glasso, but I think he would be proud.

Why I'm Here

I have a very appropriate schedule for a fisherman. I work nights at the Lake Quinault lodge, starting at 10, getting off at 6. On a day free of other entanglements I will wake up around 6 pm, go fishing, go to work, and then fish again after work until 9 or so.

The Queets and Clearwater Live Up to thier Names

I apologize for the lack of postings as of late. I recently moved into a new place and then went through a bout with a nasty summer flu that has been going around Quinault recently. I’m well now and almost fully relocated, so expect the posts to pick up.

I got out today for the first time in a week or so. Shayna and I drove north to escape the tourist nightmare that is the Upper Quinault right now, I planned to fish several spots on the Queets. When we pulled over the Salmon River Bridge it looked low and very clear. For some reason It didn’t click in my head that the recent sunny weather would put the Glacier into overdrive, and I didn’t give any though to the Queets being silty. That’s almost always a fatal mistake on the Queets, and it was today. There was maybe three feet of visibility, and the color was the sickly grey that often makes itself present on the Queets this time of year. This is not water for a floating line, and seeing how that’s all I brought, I decided to head fro greener, er, clearer pastures.

 I don’t know how much truth there is to it, but a common tale in my community is that the word Queets means “Dirty Water”. I can’t think of a more appropriate name, and to keep irony going I decided to alleviate my disappointment on the Queets largest tributary, the Clearwater.

 I had never fished the Clearwater from the bank or during early summer, so I set my frame of mind to exploratory and we headed down Clearwater road. The view at the confluence with Queets made my stomach lurch with desire for the camera that was stolen a month ago, and the drive through the Clearwater community is always pleasant. We found some good water and I plan to make subsequent trips back here. I had one good pull, but other than that the clear, cool water had just enough green to hide a fly line, and enough pocket water to make me regret heading out so late in the evening.